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The Hangdog Hymnal

by Matt Hamer and the Ramshackle Sound

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1.
Chump Change 05:07
In eighteen-hundred and forty-nine The western shine pulled the boys from their homes And it made the river cry When men with yellowed eyes, like jaundice, Drowned their souls Hey prospector, gonna strike it rich on your own? You’re drunk off the nectar That you squeezed out of a river stone You raise a toast To your fool’s gold The shadows creep to reap their own And what they sowed in me will grow until I die I gave up sleeping months ago My dreams only show me what I killed to live my life Hey postmaster, got any letters from back home? Does my wife still wear her rings? Do you know how tall my kids have grown? They could be ghosts For all I know I ran for the money I’m sorry honey, but I’m wallet-whipped and She, she don’t like me writing And despises the crying If anyone asks you tell them I’m alive and well, I’m alive and well I’m alive and well, I’m alive and well I’m alive and well, I’m alive and well I’m alive and well, I’m alive and well I’m king of a hell Made of fool’s gold
2.
Long Draw 04:04
It’s a long draw When you breathe all your solace Through cigarette filters Laced with nicotine splinters And a cheap high Gaudy neon signs A bleached smile at a mister And a full-body blister It’s like everybody’s scared of one another And just inventing crueler ways to cope with pain You’re gonna kill yourself trying not to suffer It’s a downright shame To become a slave To a digital brothel A diseased mental motel When your waking dream’s Pornographic scenes And reality’s dressed like a whore It’s like everybody’s scared of one another And just inventing crueler ways to cope with pain You’re gonna kill yourself trying not to suffer As the band leader lights up his smoke Your cup starts to tremble It’s like everybody’s scared of one another And just inventing crueler ways to cope with pain You’re gonna kill yourself trying not to suffer You’re free to taste freedom my brother But you’re quenching all your thirst with acid rain You’re gonna kill yourself trying not to suffer You’re gonna kill yourself trying not to suffer
3.
Take my address off of Wall Street Rip the Rolex off my wrist I’ll keep the time with my own footsteps I’ll beat the earth with my own fists Cause comfort is a pillowed pistol A prison caked in luxury I forget divine provision Every time I delve too deep If you let my hairs grow grey Which ones would say I loved you well? If you let my hairs grow grey Which ones would say they turned because I loved myself? A panoramic, painted skyline Reminded me that I love you What a blessed, wretched man am I Cause I could never choose you on my own If you let my hairs grow grey Which ones would say I loved you well? If you let my hairs grow grey Which ones would say they turned because I loved myself? It’s a bitter suite Singing love songs with your heart divided Yeah it’s a bitter suite Singing love songs with your heart divided With your heart divided
4.
If you were a love song A winsome melody I’d hunt for harmony I’d fumble through the key changes And when I found the pitch to sing To resonate with yours The windows and the doors would shake With overtones out to the nth degree If I was a soldier On tour in Normandy I’d want you there with me Armed right up to the teeth Though truth be told you’re not the reason I enlisted in the war If you fought with me I’m sure We’d give the enemy what for And take the beach If you were a rowboat I’d be a water snake Or a net caught in your wake Something you couldn’t shake From off the trail you cut If you meant to cut and run Cause babe I won’t be done Chasing you until sweet sunshine warms my grave You are like a metaphor The sonnet writer’s muse of yore A smiling simile personified I lack sufficient imagery To replicate in poetry The storylines you’re writing with your eyes If I was imprisoned And sentenced to my death You’d be my last request I’d hold you to my chest And we’d let echo through the cell block Songs about what we believe in At least that’s what I’m thinking Would be the best way leaving here could go
5.
Thoughtcrime 04:51
Thoughtcrime Do I love you? Oh let me count the ways I've murdered you within the deep recesses of my brain I painted on a smile Shaking hands when all the while My heart’s locked in a buried chest of hate Bust the coffers open, let the money flow Oh the more I let you see me give, the more my ego grows Shout prayers on the street Blowing trumpets cause I think My gifts will earn the love of everyone I know I think I thought "I won't get caught this time" No not this time I washed my hands but couldn't cleanse my mind Of my thoughtcrime Am I faithful? In this fact you can trust. Of all my closet vices, the most gripping one is lust I’ve cheated on you so many times If I gouged out both my eyes It’d do no good, no I think I thought "I won't get caught this time" No not this time I washed my hands but couldn't cleanse my mind Of my thoughtcrime Now the verdict? I'm guilty as they come The persecution found my blood and fingerprints right on the gun But when it comes to casting stones I ain’t the judge, I got no throne Let him who never sinned throw the first one I think I thought "I won't get caught this time" No not this time I washed my hands but couldn't cleanse my mind Of my thoughtcrime
6.
Iscariot 05:35
Judas was a tag-along Among a dozen vagabonds Following a carpenter because he asked them to Through feasts and miracles he stayed And thirty silver coins were paid And when his lips betrayed the son of man He bought himself a field O, rabbi, what we do to you. I would kiss you brazenfaced Embrace you with my fingers laced But you’d send a screaming rooster To show me my true loyalty So build your temple on my back Or call me Satan But please just keep your lampstand Burning next to me We’ll hang the old man tonight Just to kill him in the morning again Just to kill him in the morning again You gotta kill him every morning Grab all the rope you can find This is gonna take a long, long while It’s gonna be more than a while It’s gonna take the rest of my life
7.
The house paint’s peeling like a sunburnt back All the trees are bleeding through the sidewalk cracks They’re growing for the sunrise, robin’s-breast red When you leave this town Don’t leave this town for dead Young boys born with warrior’s spines You see ‘em always reaching for the power lines Do the wires really bite like mama said? When you leave this town Don’t leave this town for dead Mundane streets with mundane names Mundane mobs playing mundane games You want a parking garage pony and buttered up bread When you leave this town Don’t leave this town for dead So leave your innocence, leave our dust Go feed your burning wanderlust We’ll keep a pillow fluffed up for your weary head When you leave this town Don’t leave this town for dead

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released January 7, 2012

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Matt Hamer and the Ramshackle Sound Wichita, Kansas

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